Hope!
by Chi Chi1
Summary: A contemplation piece thought by Mirai Bulma about her past and the time machine that she is building to save her world.


Hope!!  
  
Sparks flew into Bulma's blue eyes, shielded by large, protective goggles. With a steady hand, she pealed back the paneling, and replaced the two wires that had been causing the problem. Strange as it was, all of the technical aspects of her job seemed to be easier without her father around. He had been a patient and kind teacher, but because she had wanted to do so well and make him proud, she often found herself nervous when she was working on a project in front of him. Besides, it simply felt better when she was able to accomplish something on her own, without her father's guidance and direction. He had been completely supportive of her idea for the time machine, and they had gone through the preliminary plans together, designing the shell and the wiring system. But when it came time to actually complete the project, she wanted to do it alone; and he accepted that. So while he kept up with Capsule Corporation's other obligations, Bulma was able to devote most of her time and energy to this time machine. It had taken her years. Years. And now.....It looked as though she might finally be finishing it.  
  
She stepped back, tilting her head to admire her invention. She removed the goggles, not caring about the red imprint marks they had left on her pale skin, and smiled an ear to ear grin. "When I die, they better put up a god damn monument of me right in the middle of the largest city where people can come to worship daily!"  
  
It was this invention --- this time machine, that would free the future world. And the significance of this event, of finally finishing it and knowing that worked, made tears come to Bulma's deep blue eyes. After all of the pain and all of the agony that the people of this world had gone through, they would finally be rewarded. They would finally get their lives back. There wouldn't be any jinzouningen anymore, no fear, no destruction, and no broken hearts. They would be free to live above ground, to feel the warmth sunshine on their faces and hear the birds sing once more. And it was all because of her. All because she took the last years and threw away every single other obligation; she ignored her body's command for sleep, disregarded the disapproving words of others, and even starved herself, working on this time machine.  
  
Bulma double-checked her records once more, making sure that she knew the exact date of death of Son Gokuu. She had kept a tight and exact journal of all of their adventures, even from the very first day that she met that strange little boy. In the past, she had thought it to be a rather girly and silly thing to do, but now that she was older, now that she knew the importance of those dates, she was glad that she had kept her journals. Because if she went back enough in her records, she could find the date and time of day that he returned to Earth from fighting Freezer. Before the jinzouningen, before his heart disease. The time and date of his return were more important than even the time machine itself. She knew everything had to be exact, right down to the last second or her guinea pig could end up in the wrong dimension, unable to save the future.  
  
If she was honest with herself, she might be able to admit that she was really trying to just save herself. She had always been a little selfish, but she felt that in this instance it was almost acceptable. Everyone in this world wanted a better life, not just her. Everyone wanted things to go back to the way they once were. She felt this way, of course, but she chose to keep that information private. It sounded more heroic when she said that she was doing it for the people of Earth. It was partly a lie, but then she had never been able to be honest with herself when it came to matters of courage, self-acceptance or love.  
  
*Vejiita*. She paused in movement for a moment, the feeling of his name ripping through her heart like an icy sword. She could never confess to herself that she had loved him. How could she possibly have feelings for him, anyway? He was arrogant, proud, chauvinistic, cruel, and to tell the truth, he wasn't all that good looking. The first time they saw each other, he even threatened to kill her unless Kuririn handed over the Namek dragonball. She had vivid, frightening nightmares about him for weeks on end after that experience! Then, one night, out of nowhere, the Prince of the Saiya-jin suddenly became Prince Charming. True, he was only charming for one reason, and after he got what he wanted, he turned back into his arrogant self again. It was the fact that he could be charming and nice for at least a little while that intrigued her. Maybe there was more to this dark, supposedly evil warrior than there seemed to be. She really felt in her heart that there was, and that if she were to gain his trust and know him well enough, she would discover it.  
  
Of course, she had never gotten the chance to find out. One year after Trunks's birth, he died at the hands of the jinzouningen. She remembered how she had felt, standing in the doorway with Trunks in her arms, seeing her friends come back without Vejiita. She knew that he was gone before they even told her; she could see it in their eyes and in the way that they walked. Their footsteps were full of guilt and confusion, full of defeat. They had refused to give her the details of his death, only saying that he died bravely and heroically. According to Kuririn, who had been there to witness it, Vejiita had put up a good fight, too proud to lose. That sounded like Vejiita to her, always cool and calm and full of raging pride. Yamucha had once said that he was too proud to do anything. Certainly too proud to admit to himself that maybe he loved her as well.  
  
Yamucha would say those beautiful three words. He didn't mean it though; she realized that later on in life. The words lacked feeling when they came from his lips, not because he wanted to hurt her or deceive her, but because he just didn't know. He did love her, but in a different way: as a friend, a confidant, a pet. But because she was young and impulsive, she ignored this fact and took his words to heart. Yamucha loved her! She would repeat this over and over again until her head was numb and she was finally able to believe these words. She allowed herself to be swept away by him, imagining things, building up hope for their future together, for all the things that she had dreamed of as a child. She could brag to all her old high school friends (who had never been that friendly to her anyway) about her handsome, strong boyfriend who loved her. She would link her arm through his and say, "This is my boyfriend, Yamucha" and all the girls would giggle shyly and say that she was the luckiest girl on Earth.  
  
Needless to say, they considered themselves lucky as well when Yamucha pulled them aside and slipped them his phone number. He was never faithful to her; she knew now that he could never commit to her because he didn't really love her. She knew that he tried, that he struggled with it, but in the end he could not help himself from going out with other girls. When she first discovered his infidelity, she was surprised to find that she wasn't as hurt by it as she thought she would be. She had been furious though, so angry that she couldn't even see straight. It was anger at the fact that she wasn't good enough for a low class, scar-faced warrior with no job, no manners and bad hair. She wasn't upset that he didn't love her enough to keep himself in line, but she was mad about the fact that he dared to disrespect her in this way. She never felt pain about the situation, and now she had to admit that the only reason she never felt hurt by his actions was because she didn't love him either. She felt the pain at his death, though. It hit her harder perhaps than the death's of any of her friends, sticking her right in the heart. It had been no more than three days after Vejiita had died. Once more, she saw her friends come back from battle, one less person than what they started with. She mourned the loss of Yamucha horribly, sighing and sobbing at his funeral. Even remembering it now, a sick feeling churned in her stomach, knowing that she had lost him.  
  
No tears were shed at Vejiita's funeral, not one. Not because she didn't want to admit to everyone else that she had really loved him, but because she didn't even want to admit it to *herself*. When she was with Vejiita, looking into his eyes, she had completely helpless and yet absurdly powerful at the same time. It was as though she were tumbling out of control through the air, headed straight for the ground below her, and she liked it. The emotions that came from being with Vejiita were so confusing and so strong that she could barely take it. She had never felt anything like that for anyone, and it scared her to think that she could become so vulnerable and sorrowful at the very sight of him lying lifeless in a coffin.  
  
A tear slid down her cheek. She could cry now, though; now that she knew, now that she was older and alone. She stared at the time machine sitting on the floor of her workshop. Maybe she should go back in time instead of her son. Go back in time and just stay there forever. She wanted to go back to the day when Vejiita first smiled at her. Not that cocky, "I could pierce your skull with my little finger" smile, but a genuine, almost sweet smile. She couldn't go back though, it was too dangerous for her and she knew it. Besides that, the people here needed her. She had supplied them with food, water, housing, and even simulated sunlight so crops could grow underground. They depended on her for everything, not a day went by that someone wasn't in need of something. And now, she was giving them more than just a chance to adapt to their miserable lives, she was giving them hope for a new life. Just like she had hope for a new life of her own.  
  
And that was really what it was all about: hope. No great force had ever propelled anyone through the course of their lives. It was what made her be able wake up every morning and face the world holding her head high. It was what she had felt for her son, holding him in her arms as she realized that they were the only ones left. It was what made her keep on living, even though her heart and mind and everything else told her that she should just curl up and die. They all felt it; every single person on Earth felt it running through their blood like fire, strengthening them with a kind of power that was stronger than any other force. The world was filled with it, bursting with it, knowing that it was the one thing that the jinzouningen could never, *ever* take away from them. What this world would be like without hope, she did not know. It was the only thing that kept people living and breathing and dreaming.  
  
A smile spread across her face as she made the final adjustment to her invention. When she placed the paintbrush on the cool metal surface and stroked it downward gently, painting that last exclamation mark, she didn't just see the word "hope!!" written on the machine.  
  
She felt it with every fiber of her being. 


End file.
